Extreme Pursuit (Chasing Justice #2)

by Alex Kingwell

  Nicky remembered she forgotten her phone, and was about to ask Karina to go back for it, but decided not to. She’d left Cullen a note and she’d be back in an hour or two anyway.

  Karina said, “I hope you’re hungry. We’ve got a pot of soup on.”

  Nicky turned to look at her sister, “How are you doing?”

  “I’m okay. The last few days have been stressful, what with your accident and Dad not feeling well, but I’m managing. It’s awful to say, but I feel better now that Allan Spidell’s dead.” She gave Nicky a long look. “Dad found out somehow that you went to see him. He was very angry.”

  “At me?”

  “More so at Spidell and the fact that he tried to kill you.”

  “I don’t know where dad gets his information. We can’t be sure Spidell tried to kill me.”

  Karina looked at Nicky, shocked. “Who else would it be?”

  Nicky bit her lip. “It could have been an accident.”

  Karina said, “You and I both know that isn’t true. Of course it was Allan Spidell. He killed mom, too. We may never know why, but we’ll just have to live with that. You realize that, don’t you? Your detective can be the best detective in the world, but unless he can make dead men talk, we won’t know.”

  “He’s not my detective.”

  “Well, you know what I mean.”

  Tears stung her eyes. Karina was right, but it hurt to hear it said out loud.

  A large semi-truck drove up behind them. Karina slowed and pulled to the side of the lane to let it pass, then reached over, rubbed her hand. “I’m sorry, sweetie.”

  “Sweetie” had been Karina’s pet name for her when she was little. She forgot when Karina had stopped using it, but it was likely when Nicky’d stopped being a sweetie and had started turning bad. But now something about Karina’s smile and her use of the term just felt contrived.

  Nicky pulled her hand back. “Do you ever think about moving away?”

  “Funny you mention that. I have a job offer in New York, a good one.”

  “Wow. What is it?”

  “It’s at a hospital. A unit manager for a medical-surgery rehab unit. Thirty-two beds. It’s right up my alley.”

  “You would be great, Karina.”

  She smiled grimly. “I haven’t decided whether to take it. That’s one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. I don’t know what to do.”

  “But you want to take it?”

  She nodded. “I think I do, but I want to be sure. I’ve lived here my whole life.”

  She didn’t want to leave their father. Karina didn’t say it, but that was the reason. Nicky said, “He can look after himself.”

  “I just feel protective of him. It’s hard to explain.” Her hands were tight on the steering wheel.

  “But are you happy?”

  Karina didn’t answer and it occurred to Nicky again that she was the lucky one. She wasn’t as put together, as successful, and she’d made plenty of mistakes. But they were her mistakes. Karina lived too much on the straight and narrow to have the chance to make many mistakes. At the same time, she had to live up to their father’s expectations. The stress showed in the lines around her mouth and eyes, lines that a woman who’d turned thirty not long ago shouldn’t have had.

  They pulled off the highway and onto the road leading up to their father’s house. A few miles in, Nicky caught sight of the lake and a cold hand reached in and squeezed her heart. The accident was too fresh in her mind. She could feel the water on her body, her lungs screaming for air, smell the slippery seaweed in her hair, taste it in her mouth. Clutching the seat, she squeezed her eyes shut.

  Karina stopped the car. “Nicole, are you all right?”

  Her head in her hands, Nicky fought panic. Blood swooshed in her head and her pulse raced. It all felt like everything was going to pieces.

  Karina clutched her hand. “Nicole?”

  She tried to talk but words wouldn’t come. She thought of almost drowning in the lake as a child and wondered if her dream held the truth, if Karina had tried to drown her. What was she doing in the car?

  “Nicole, sweetie?” Karina tugged on her arm.

  She opened her eyes and looked at Karina, who stared at her, wide-eyed. “Are you okay?”

  Nodding, she concentrated on taking deep breaths. Of course that wasn’t how it had happened. Get a grip.

  Karina had stopped the car just before the crash site. Ahead, a twisted and broken section of guardrail showed where the car had broken through.

  Hugging herself, she closed her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see Karina. Or the lake. She wanted to call Cullen, to hear his voice, but she’d forgotten the stupid phone.

  “Nicole?” Karina tugged her arm.

  She managed to recover her voice enough to say, “I’m fine. Let’s just go, okay?”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Cullen found Steve Bosko at the side of his house, where he was building a retaining wall to level off an area in the yard where it sloped steeply down to the woods surrounding the property. Bosko grabbed a concrete block with one hand and set it down gently on the concrete footing. He was a wiry man, smaller than his older brother, but his arm muscles bulged and his power belied his size. This wasn’t a guy who ran his business sitting behind a desk all the time.

  Spotting Cullen, he wiped the sweat off his brow with his forearm and climbed up the small embankment. He brushed his hands together to get rid of the loose dirt, then shook Cullen’s hand with a firm grip. He smelled of damp earth and sweat.

  They walked up to the patio at the back of the house, where Bosko poured a glass of water from a pitcher on a patio table. “Would you like some?” When Cullen shook his head, they sat down in chairs beside the table. The air was still, with no wind at all, but the musky smell of the lake hung in the air. The dully gray water was just visible through a bank of fir trees near shore.

  The spot where Nicole’s car had crashed into the water was several miles up the road, on the other side of his brother’s place. Cullen sucked in a breath, suddenly chilled by fear. He shouldn’t have left her alone. Maybe he should ask for some time off. Then he could keep a closer eye on her and investigate the case on his own time. And the chief wouldn’t be able to pull him off the case.

  Bosko said, “What can I do for you?”

  Cullen took the picture of the high school students out of a manila envelope and set it on the table. “I was wondering if you could identify any of these people in the photo.”

  Bosko leaned forward, took a look, then pointed a dirty finger at the man with his hair in a ponytail hair. “That’s Chris Vial. He moved away, not sure where. He only lived here for a year, his father was in the military and they moved around a lot. The other guy is Allan Spidell and then there’s me.”

  “You didn’t stay in contact with Vial?”

  “No, sorry. I’m not sure how you’d track him down, either, other than, like I said, his father was in the military.” He straightened. “Nola might know. I think there was some sort of family connection. They were second cousins or something. We only found out about that later, when I met Nola. She wasn’t from here.”

  Nicky made a note to ask Nola about Chris Vial. “And the girls?”

  Bosko pointed to a short girl with dark frizzy hair. “Her name is Wanda Mackie. I went out with her for a while. She married some guy from Canada. I think they’re living in Montreal. She might’ve changed her name when she married.”

  Writing down the names, Cullen nodded encouragement.

  It took him longer minute to come up with the other woman’s name. “The girl beside Wanda is Noor Baloche,” he said. “No idea where she is. We kind of lost touch.”

  “And the other girl?”

  Taking a sip of water, he looked at the picture again. “I can’t remember. I wasn’t friends with her.” He scratched his head. “I think she still lives around her. She looks familiar. Or maybe I’m mixing her up with somebody else. It’s been a long
time, decades ago. Why? Is it important?”

  “I’d like to talk to them, see if they can tell us anything that might be relevant to the investigation.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “How could they? The photo was taken a long time ago, our last year of high school, at least a decade before Lisa disappeared. I don’t think she had contact with any of them, other than Spidell, of course, after that.”

  “And yourself.”

  “Of course, and myself.” He shifted in his chair.

  “Did she have a relationship with Spidell or this Vial guy? Something that might have resumed after she was married?”

  “No.” His cleared his throat.

  “You seem pretty sure.”

  “I think I would have known.” Bosko drew back, eyed Cullen warily.

  Cullen watched him closely. “How close were you to her?”

  His eyes darkened. “We were good friends. We hung out in the same group together.” He pointed at the picture. “She wasn’t interested in either of those guys.”

  “Who was she interested in? Do you have any idea who that man—or woman—might have been?”

  Finished with the water, he held the glass in a white-knuckle grip. “Why is it so important? What if it has nothing to do with what happened?”

  An edge in Bosko’s tone struck Cullen. He tensed. Maybe Nicole hadn’t been so wrong about her uncle, after all. He said, “It wasn’t you?”

  “Wasn’t me what?” He set the glass down.

  “Did you ever go out with Lisa Bosko?”

  Bosko stood up suddenly, knocking over his chair. He walked to the edge of the patio, swinging his hands, then turned around.

  Cullen was already standing, ready.

  But Bosko sat down, and when he looked up his face was a mottled red. After a long moment, he said, “I did, yes, before she was married. In high school. When that picture was taken.” A dark shadow crossed his face. “But I would never have hurt her.”

  Cullen waited, sucked in a lungful of cool air.

  Bosko said, “I wanted to marry her. That was the plan. We were supposed to get married when she came back from college. But she ended up picking my brother instead.”

  “Were you angry about that?”

  His eyes were bleak. “Anger isn’t the word. More disappointed. It happened very quickly.” He crossed his arms over his chest, eyed Cullen warily. “But you’ve got to believe me, I would never have hurt her.”

  His eyes glistening with tears, he covered his face with his hands. Dirt and flakes of dried concrete smeared his forearms. After a moment, he put his hands down and looked up. “She made her decision and I accepted it.”

  Something clicked in place. Sitting down again, he said, “Did your brother find out about the affair?”

  Eyes widening, Bosko seemed ready to protest but instead slumped back in his chair. When he finally spoke, his voice was flat. “No, he didn’t. But it had been over for a couple of years.

  It had nothing to do with what happened to her.”

  Cullen waited.

  “She didn’t want to leave Jim; she didn’t want to break up the family. And neither of us wanted to carry on the way it was. It felt too”—he searched for the word—“too dirty.”

  “Are you sure your brother didn’t know?”

  From Bosko came a quick nod. “Absolutely. If he had, he would have disowned me. Do you have to tell him now? It would kill him.” His voice cracked.

  Steve Bosko seemed unaware he had just supplied his own motive for killing Lisa Bosko. If she’d told her husband, that would have been the end of Steve Bosko’s relationship with his brother.

  Cullen said, “You should have come forward.”

  “What good would it have done? I didn’t kill her. I would never have hurt her. And I didn’t know who this guy was. If it all came out, it would only hurt Jim more. You have to understand, Jim comes across as a really strong person but he isn’t. He’s near broken.”

  Frowning, he studied Bosko. “Did you talk to her on the phone in the months before she died?”

  When Bosko nodded, Cullen said, “What was she scared of?”

  “I didn’t get the impression she was scared. She was worried about something, I know that. I begged her to tell me what it was, but she wouldn’t.” He thought about it some more. “She kept talking about Nicole, about how she had to do the right thing for Nicole.”

  His gut hardening, Cullen said, “What else did she say about Nicole? What was the right thing?”

  “I couldn’t get it out of her. I wanted to help her, but she wouldn’t let me. She told me that if I said a word to anyone she would never speak to me again.” A tear rolled down his cheek. “I should never have listened to her. If I had, she might still be alive.”

  With that, he doubled over, his body wracked by sobs.

  * * *

  When Karina pulled into the driveway of their father’s house a few minutes later, Nicky’s heart rate had slowed enough for her to believe she was no longer in danger of passing out.

  Karina parked in front of the garage, then turned to Nicky, her eyes dark and watchful. “Are you okay?”

  She nodded. Her hands still shook and she was shivering. A big mistake it had been to agree to come.

  For a second, Karina’s eyes hardened and appeared almost hostile, as if she knew what Nicky was thinking, but then it was gone, and Nicky supposed she’d imagined it. Her sister loved her, always had. Someday she’d ask Karina what had happened, once she’d figured out how to broach the topic. Kids sometimes did crazy things. She was a prime example. It was their behavior as adults that counted.

  Their father was raking a thin scattering of leaves into a small pile on the front lawn. Reaching for the door handle, Karina said, “Some things never change.”

  Nicky returned her smile. Their father was a perfectionist by nature. It made him an excellent doctor, some said the best in the county, but his obsession with his lawn bordered on fanaticism. They’d once joked about staging an intervention but her father hadn’t seen the humor.

  Karina said, “He still mows it every four days and he’s been out a few times now raking up leaves, even though they haven’t even started falling off the trees yet.”

  Nicky imitated his voice. “Yes, well, we can’t leave them to rot on the grass.”

  Chuckling, Karina shot her a smile, then got out the car.

  Nicky took a deep breath. Still rattled, she thought her father would likely be happier outdoors raking leaves than inside with them. Opening the door, she stepped out of the car and joined her father and sister on the lawn. He still looked tired, although his eyes were no longer red.

  He said, “I’ll join you inside in a minute.”

  In the kitchen, Karina lifted the lid off the soup on the stove and gave it a stir with a wooden spoon. The smell of chicken noodle soup wafted across the room. Karina left the lid off, then got some whole wheat rolls out of the breadbox and butter from the refrigerator.

  Reaching for glasses in the cupboard, Nicky said, “Do you think dad’s going to be okay? He’s not depressed, is he?”

  Karina smeared butter on a roll. “He just needs more time.”

  “Maybe he should see someone.”

  “You’re probably right, but I don’t know if he’d agree. I’m at my wit’s end, to tell you the truth.” Karina’s brow creased. “I was going to tell him about the job offer, but now might be a good time.”

  A few minutes later their father came in through the back door. He took off his shoes and sat down in the family room. He made noises suggesting he should have helped with lunch, but Karina shrugged it off and carried a tray with steaming soup mugs and rolls into the family room.

  As Nicky sat down, she noticed a framed picture of her mother and father on the mantel she was sure she hadn’t ever seen before.

  Karina saw her look. “Dad thought it was about time we displayed some pictures of Mom.”

  Their father gave a grim smile. “
I’m sorry to you both that I didn’t do more to make your mother’s presence felt in the house.”

  Nicky and Karina exchanged a quick look. Karina said, “It’s perfectly understandable, Dad.”

  They chatted some more, mainly about work, before her father said, “I heard about Allan Spidell. I can’t say I’m sorry, especially after he tried to kill you. You should have told me. You know I would have found out anyway. There’s not much in this town I don’t know about.”

  Nicky put her half-eaten sandwich down. “I wish I was surer he was the one who was responsible.”

  “Of course he was. Who else would do it?” He dismissed her comment with a flick of his wrist. “Did the police confirm that he tampered with your car?”

  “I don’t think they know yet. The thing that gets me, I don’t understand the reason.”

  Her father shrugged. “Don’t try to overanalyze everything. You went to see him, right? Maybe he felt threatened.”

  An undercurrent of impatience in his tone suggested he didn’t want to discuss it further.

  Karina put down her glass of milk and eyed her father steadily. “Do you think Mom had an affair with him?”

  Nicky, surprised Karina had asked, waited for the answer.

  He closed his eyes. “I don’t know. I know at one time they were friends. I guess it’s possible. We may never know what exactly happened and we have to be prepared to live with that.”

  That would be hard for her father, who liked loose ends tidied up. But the stress seemed to be getting to him.

  Nicky said, with a mind to changing the topic, “I’ll bring back the other photo albums. I’m sure you’d like to look through them also.”

  Her father said, “No hurry, but it would be nice to have a peek.”

  A few minutes later, she picked up a photo album sitting on the coffee table in front of her. Karina was clearing away the lunch dishes, having refused her help, and was in the kitchen making coffee. The photos in this album were like some of the ones in the collection at Cullen’s place. Looking at them, her insides twisted. Would she ever be able to let go of her anger and move forward? Right now, it didn’t seem possible.